Second Chance
by Ritz-Myst-Sekamu
Summary: Himura Kenshin was too soiled for heaven, yet too pure for hell... the solution? Reincarnation. Unfortunately, no one told Kurama. Or should we say, Kenshin? Written by Myst and Sekamu RK YYH crossover
1. Reincarnation?

Sekamu: crouching down, pokes "Himura Kenshin: Spirit Detective" with a stick I think it's dead.

Myst: pinches nose Ewwwww… It is. Let's try again, shall we?

Sekamu: Great! I had another idea, anyway.

Myst: Uh oh…

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"Murder is a charge that is taken very seriously here in the Spirit World, Himura-san."

"This one understands."

"But then, we must take into account your attempt at repentance. Not many would sacrifice themselves like you have. However... compared with the deaths you caused, it is still not enough to get into Heaven..."

"This one... understands."

"...Or, it seems, into Hell. You seem to be hanging in limbo, Himura-san."

"N-nani..?"

"Luckily, we have a way of dealing with ones like you."

"Oro..?"

"Reincarnation!"

The crash of a gavel resonated around the large hall, plunging Himura Kenshin into darkness.

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_Riiinngg._

_Riiinngg._

_Riiinngg._

Kurama didn't hear the incessant ringing of the telephone at first. He was too absorbed in writing a history essay about the revolutionary warrior Katsura Kogoro to be bothered with any issues of the current century.

Finally, the ringing stopped. There was a click, and the message machine started blasting a loud, brash voice: "_Kurama! You'd better answer! I only get one call, and I really don't feel like begging for another one!_"

Kurama was immediately brought back to the modern era and picked up the phone. "Yusuke? What do you mean only one call..?"

"Er... well... I kinda need a favor, old buddy..!"

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Feeling rather uncomfortable (after all, this was one of the very few times that he had had… _legal_… dealings with the police. Kurama for one was very _very_ happy about the absence of hand cuffs.), Kurama entered the police station. The only person there was the secretary, so he went over to him.

"Excuse me, sir?" Kurama asked, wondering if Hiei and the man in front of him used the same brand of hair gel. The secretary had blond hair that stuck up in the air like an insane broom.

"Yeah?"

"I'm here to bail a friend of mine out of jail. Who should I talk to?"

"Go through that door to the right. You want Fujita Goro. He'll help you out." Kurama had already turned around when he caught something that to a normal human wouldn't have been audible. "Probably."

Even more uncomfortable than before, Kurama entered into a group of cells. Ignoring the few wolf whistles (ug, Long hair does not equal girl!), he looked around for Yusuke, and found him… fast asleep. _Nnn…, _Kurama mentally complained, _I come all the way out here to pay bail, and the _least _he could do is actually be _awake! Unfortunately for the Spirit Detective, he had chosen to fall asleep rather close to the bars of the cell, giving a certain mischievous fox an idea.

Poke.

"Nng."

Poke.

"G'way, mom, lemme sleep. No school today…"

"Yusuke, I am most certainly not your mother. Now, _wake up._"

Yusuke sat up, rubbing his head rather sheepishly. "Oh, hey Kurama. Glad you could make it."

"I'm sure. You're lucky my mother was on a date with Hatanaka-san. Do you know where an office would be?" Yusuke pointed further down the hallway. "Thank you," Kurama replied as he began to follow Yusuke's directions. None of the cells back this way held people, he was glad to note. Finally, he reached the office door. Knocking twice, he waited for an answer.

"If it has anything to do with work, _go stuff your head in the toilet!!!" _

Kurama took that as an invitation to come in.

The first thing he noticed was the smell of cigarettes—old ones, and the one that was hanging from the lips of the policeman sitting behind the desk. The desk itself was an elegant antique desk, one hundred, no, two hundred and fifty years old. Elegant, yet simple, and quite out of place in a police station. Perhaps he should relieve them—Kurama cut himself off. _I need to stop doing that, _he reminded himself. The rest of the office was sparsely furnished, and the only piece of furniture besides the desk was the chair behind it. Clearly not a welcoming room.

"Well? What is it?"

And not a welcoming man, either… The policeman was tall, with bangs that Kurama was surprised did not remove the narrow eyes beneath them. His whole face was narrow, and when he noticed that Kurama was looking at him, he removed the cigarette and blew out a puff of smoke. "And you are…? Come on, I don't have all day." Fujita glanced at the clock. "Night. What are _you _here for?"

"I'm sorry, Fujita-san," Kurama said, stepping further into the office, shutting the door, and bowing. "I'm here to bail a friend of mine out of jail. How much is it posted for Urameshi Yusuke?" he continued, not noticing the slightly surprised look the officer gave him.

Fujita glanced down at the paper in front of him. Kurama winced at the number that was named. He was lucky that he'd decided to work at the greenhouse on the weekends, or he would never have managed to have enough. He sighed, and pulled his checkbook out of his pocket. He wrote out the check, signed his name, and walked over to Fujita to give it to him, since the man seemed less than forthcoming. Kurama would have put the check on the desk, received the keys, and been done with the whole thing, but Fujita, having stood up, grabbed his hand before he could pull away.

"Fujita-san? Pardon me, but what…?"

The officer was mumbling to himself, saying, "Calluses, yes, but not from a sword. Some kind of weapon, though, I'm fairly sure."

"They're from writing. I'm a student at high school," Kurama lied, acting as innocent as possible and hoping the officer was buying it.

He wasn't. Kurama grinned largely into the searching glare that Fujita was giving him, restraining a nervous laugh.

Whatever Fujita was looking for, he apparently didn't find it, since after a couple of seconds, he shoved Kurama's hand back into him. Kurama let himself over balance (recovering would make it seem like he was a fighter), and stumbled against the door with a small 'oof'.

Fujita, meanwhile, was rummaging through the many drawers of the out-of-place desk. Finding the keys, he threw them at Kurama, who caught them one-handed and juggled them back and forth before getting a good grip. All for show, of course, but it managed to convince the police officer of something.

Kurama quickly decided that now would be a good time to leave. He bowed and thanked Fujita before doing so. Something about that man was… disconcerting.

"You got the keys!!" Yusuke shouted with glee as Kurama came quickly back. "Get me out!"

"Hold on, hold _on,_" Kurama muttered, as eager as Yusuke to be out of the station. He unlocked the door, and, not even waiting for him, began to walk out.

The pair passed by Broom-head, with whom Kurama left the keys, and got outside, where Kurama insisted on coming with Yusuke home. He did _not _want the Detective to get arrested. Again.

They both made it to Yusuke's house safely, even if Yusuke had wanted to stop at every bar on the way there. Kurama had insisted Yusuke go home. After saying goodnight to his friend, he went on his own way.

He could finish the essay… or go to bed. The second one was much more appealing at this point…

Kurama was turning onto his street when he felt the spike of energy behind him. He turned around, wondering where he had felt it before. "Anyone there?" Shrugging, he turned back around and walked into the house.


	2. Remembering

Sekamu: chanting Second Chapter Second chance!

Kuro: Try saying that five times fast! Second Chapter Second Chance! Second Chapter Second Chance! Second Chapter Second Chance! Second Chapter Second Chance!

Myst: Second Chapter Second Chance! Second Chapter Second Chance! Second Chapter Second Chance! Second Chapter Second Chance! Second Chapter Second Chance! Second Chapter Second Chance! Second Chapter Second Chance! Second Chapter Second Chance!

Sekamu: swirly eyes What have I done…?

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"I'm fine," Kurama reassured a tall woman who was looking down at him. "A stone tripped me up, that's all, Sakura-san." The woman, Sakura, smiled at him and helped him untangle the cords from around his leg so that they were straight in front of him again. They still bound his hands, but Kurama had almost become used to that.

"Hurry up," the slaver's voice growled from in front of them. He gave a tug on the cords to emphasize his point. "This is bandit country, and I have a bad fee—" The man was cut off by a sword being thrust through his chest. Kurama stared at the blood dripping down the man's front in morbid fascination.

Before anyone else could do anything, Sakura had snatched up Kurama and begun to run. Two other girls, whose ties had also been held by the newly killed man, fought to catch up. "Sakura," one, Kasumi, panted, "Where can we go?"

Akane was also out of breath, but she was able to point out to Sakura and Kasumi that not only were they surrounded by the bandits, but they were being chased as well.

Hearing this, Sakura stopped running. Whether she was out of breath or out of hope, Kurama did not know. She set him down, and began to regroup with the other two girls. Kurama, on the other hand, picked up a sword from the body of one of the slavers, and stood in front of the approaching bandits. They had slowed down as the girls had stopped running, and were advancing steadily, laughing at the idea of a child fighting them.

Before he could do much more than raise the sword, Akane had snatched him away and was trying, and failing, to prevent him from seeing the other two girls being slashed by the bandits. Slashed as they begged for_ his_ life.

"Listen to me," she said as she crouched over Kurama. "If you do nothing else, live! I might die here tonight, but you must live on. Live for me…!" Akane did not have the opportunity to insist, as she was pulled up by her hair by one of the bandits. She tried to, though, repeating "live" until a sword was shoved through her neck. Even then, it took a sword through her back after they dropped her to the ground for her to die completely.

Kurama stared at the girl in shock, not registering the cries of "What the hell!" and "Who are you?" from the bandits. He didn't see the man in the white cloak massacre those remaining. He could only see the face of the dead woman in front of him, and hear her final words. He didn't even look up when the only one left alive on that road spoke to him.

"You were unlucky, child. The Shogunate's laws have been lax since the arrival of the black ships two years ago. More and more self-declared ronin prowl as bandits in this area. Some fate brought me here, and I have taken revenge for you. But the dead will not be brought back to life by mourning or hatred. Such things happen everyday, everywhere, in today's Japan. You should be thankful that you, at least, are alive. If you go to the village at the foot of the mountain, and tell them your story, they will care for you." With that, the swordsman walked away.

The rest of the night, along with the following day and following night, Kurama spent burying every body on that field of blood. For every grave he made a cross, and for the three young women who had tried to protect him, he lugged large stones from a nearby creek. Half of the last night, he looked for flowers, but he could not find any, anywhere. For an hour, Kurama stood in front of the graves, thinking. At a step behind him, he did not turn.

"Not only your parents, but for the bandits, too?" A voice from behind him spoke.

Kurama corrected the man without looking at him. "They were slavers, not parents. The parents…" He continued, his voice tinged with sadness, "…died of chlorea last year. Bandits or slavers, once they're dead, they're just bodies," Kurama said, trying to explain why he had felt the need to bury his mistreaters and their murderers.

"Even so, you made graves for them…" the man said, the emotion in his voice unreadable. "What are those three stone graves?"

"Kasumi-san, Akane-san, Sakura-san. All three were forcibly taken from their parents as payment for debts." Kurama looked down, continuing to study the graves. "I only knew them for a day, but I was the only one here, and I have no parents. So I thought," he continued, not expecting the man to completely understand, "Even if it costs my life, I'll have to protect them. But…" he trailed off, ashamed at the sad graves in front of the two, "I couldn't find the right stones to make a nice grave for them, like I wanted. I looked for flowers to offer, but I couldn't find even one." Kurama bowed his head even more, but turned his head to the side, surprised to hear a soft 'pop'.

The man had a jug of sake with him, apparently newly bought. He poured some of the sake ontop of each stone, saying as he did so, "Man or woman, to attain buddhahood without knowing the taste of good sake is a crime. A good sake is the least I can do," he explained, as a stream of alchohol fell on the last stone. "What is your name, boy?"

Kurama looked at the man for the first time. For a second, he was dumbstruck by the sheer _height_ of the man in front of him. The billowing white cloak made him look like someone from a fable or legend. He opened his mouth to give the stranger his name—and woke up.

Kurama sat up in bed, eyes wide. That dream… One of the strangest ones he'd had in a while. He shook his head. He had no clue where that had come from. Perhaps from studying too much…? He remembered that the man had mentioned the "coming of the black ships", so for some reason, the dream had been placed right before the Bakumatsu. Well, whatever the reason for the dream was, it was an odd one, Kurama thought, as he rolled over on his bed and went back to sleep.

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A couple of days later, Kurama noticed something odd looking in the mirror. It took a couple of seconds for him to recognize that he had tied his hair back into a high ponytail. Ah well, it was comfortable, he decided, and walked out of the bathroom.

That night, however, he had another odd dream.

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"I will not allow you to leave!" Hiko Seijuro denied his apprentice, who stood a few feet away from him under the tree.

"But Master!" Kurama argued his case, "While you interpret philosophy, innocent people are dying down there day after day! The teachings of Hiten Mitsurugi are fruitless unless they are used to protect the defenseless! We must go!"

"Be silent!" his master interrupted before he could say anymore. Kurama gave a slight intake of breath at Hiko's vehemence. "How do you plan to defend those people with your limited knowledge? Will you choose the less loathsome of the two evil factions in that futile conflict and do its bidding? I do not bestow master Hiten Mitsurugi's sweetest principles on you so you can become the pawn of nefarious men. You can change _nothing. _The troubles of the outside world are perpetual."

Kurama couldn't stand it anymore. "And in virtue of that I'm to turn my back and live in self-ordained ignorance?" He burst out, taking a step forward. "I can't ignore them! They need us, master," he tried, one more time, for permission to go fight.

"When your training is complete, you will be the strongest of swordsmen, and your mind will be as strong as your sword." Hiko said, turning to face his apprentice.

"The peasants who are dying in the grip of the Bakufu alliance cannot wait that long, master. Your words are nothing to them!" Kurama stated loudly, gesturing with the hand that did not hold his sword.

"Go down there! Brand yourself a murderer!" Hiko allowed. He gasped, not expecting Hiko's bluntness. Yes, Kurama wanted permission, but perhaps not that badly. Hiko ignored him, continuing, "Murder is the only art a swordsman can practice! No ornamental words can change that. You want to protect people with murder?! You'll slaughter legions so that a few might live." His master's angry tone changed to one of almost regret. "Many years, long before you were born, my sword was tearing asunder the lives of men. Yes, all of those men were evil," he allowed, as he bowed his head, "but they were human beings, first and foremost."

Hiko's tone changed. He almost sounded like he was begging Kurama not to do this. "The world you so ardently desire to enter would not know what to do with you. It will deceive you into believing that you are saving lives even as you destroy them. You will accept their lies. All the while, your hands will be stained with the worst of offenses." Kurama gripped the sword tighter, raising it to waist height

"Perhaps," he agreed, knowing that that was all too true, "But even so, my hands will bring relief to people who have learned to live without hope." That would be the only way he would be able to stand killing, the only way he would be able to live with himself. "A human being who feeds on his brother is not a man anymore. He is a mad dog, and should be dealt the same fate," Kurama said, honestly believing this. Master Hiko began to walk back to the hut they shared, ignoring him. "Master! Listen!"

"It is foolish to listen to someone who will not listen to you. Do as you wish. Go to them," he finally (grudgingly) allowed, walking into the hut.

"Thank you," Kurama said quietly. "Master…" he said even more quietly, bowing his thanks, and his acknowledgement that Hiko would not consider taking him back, if he did not die in the fighting. Without another word, he began to walk down the mountain. His things were already on him—his sword, and the clothes on his back. That was all he carried to the life that awaited him.

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Again, Kurama awoke. That was the second dream he had had this week of that man—"Hiko", he had called him tonight. No, "Hiko" felt odd. Not "Hiko", but… "Master". Strange…

* * *

Sekamu: Yeah, nothing much actually happened in this chapter. But he's starting to remember… evil laughter Okay, so the first scene was taken almost directly from the Rurouni Kenshin manga, volume… 12? Hiko's speech is word for word from the manga, along with the conversation at the graves. Some of the stuff with the bandits and slavers I made up, and some of it is from Samurai X: Trust. If you've seen the movie, you'll recognize Sakura's, Kasumi's, and Akane's deaths.

The second scene was, again, word for word, this time from the English version of Samurai X: Trust. All of Kurama/Kenshin's internal dialogue I made up, but the spoken words are verbatim.

I'm posting the third chapter at the same time, and that is my own, not taken from the canons, and these are really the only long dream scenes in the story… I think. That might change.

That's about it, so thank you all for reading, and please don't forget to review!!


	3. Kendo Problems

Sekamu: Okay, so I'm going to try and post about once a week...

Myst: _That _won't happen...

Sekamu: _Try _being the key word here. Double update today, because the last chapter didn't actually have much of my own stuff in it, and is kinda boring. There's kendo in this chapter!

Myst: ;hyperactive; Kendo?! Where?! I'll take anyone on!!! swings shinai wildly

Sekamu: ;ducks shinai; Anyway, it's getting more interesting, now. I think.

_Because of the dreams that have, for one reason or another, decided to plague my sleep, I have __resolved__ to begin a dream journal. _

Kurama looked up after about ten minutes of writing about the two dreams he'd had. Glancing at the clock, he rolled off of his bed, shut the small notebook and placed it on his bedside table. He grabbed his worn school bag and walked silently down the stairs to the kitchen.

"Good morning, mother."

Shiori jumped and spun around. "Ah! Shuichi, I didn't hear you come down. Did you sleep well?" she asked, turning back around to the stove.

Kurama shrugged. "Yes, I did. Would you like help with breakfast?" Shiori declined his offer with a smile. After the two had eaten, Kurama went on to school.

Today was a Wednesday, meaning the kendo club would be practicing that morning, Kurama mused to himself. His footsteps subconsciously sped up. Upon reaching the school, Kurama went straight to the gym, where the kendo club usually practiced. Hearing shouts and cries from behind the closed doors, a small smile spread across his face. He entered the gym without a sound and walked straight for the bleachers.

The kendo club consisted of about fifteen people in all. Some were there because they truly enjoyed sword arts, but most were there to brag and show off. One or two participated at their parents' insistence. Very few had any potential… Kurama observed from his seat in the bleachers. It wasn't surprising that Meiou had developed a reputation as a school for the academically inclined. The kendo team hadn't won in years.

One practitioner caught his eye. He was a senior, had a reputation as a bully, and was attacking one of the poles again and again. Every time he would attack, the shinai that he used would break. The rubber tip would fly off, or one of the bamboo sticks that comprised the shinai would crack, or the hilt would break in two.

_He puts too much power into the strokes. He needs to work on the basics,__ instead of just using brute force. Just a little finesse, and…_

"Oi! Pretty boy! What're you looking at?"

Apparently Kurama's focus on the senior had attracted his attention. Without waiting for an answer, the other student approached. "Why're you watching me?"

"I was merely noticing that you seem to have skipped your basic training. You use a good deal of power, it's true, but your stance is completely off-balance," Kurama pointed out, not really knowing how he knew this.

Kurama's answer had caused all other action in the gym to come to a stop. "Whoa…" one of the kids whispered. "I don't think anyone's ever been brave enough to tell Yoshikuni-san that he was doing something wrong."

"Brave," her companion whispered, "or just stupid."

"No, that's Minamino Shuichi. He's the top student…!" the girl said, completely missing the point.

The senior, Yoshikuni, laughed. "Minamino, huh? I've heard of you! You probably learned whatever it is you know about swords from a book! Well, guess what? That's nothing compared to the actual experience!" Kurama mentally laughed. If only he knew… "I bet that you can't make one of these things break like I can!"

Kurama narrowed his eyes slightly, sensing a challenge. "How much?"

The wind was taken out of his foolish opponent's sails. "Huh?"

"I accept the bet. How much are you willing to lose?"

"I bet you five thousand yen!" Yoshikuni quickly recovered.

Kurama smiled again. "Alright." He stood, and walked over to the post that Yoshikuni was using. Picking up an unused shinai from the rack, he held it in a moment of sudden realization. What the _hell _was he doing?! He'd never had any training, and contrary to what Yoshikuni had guessed, he'd never read any books on the subject, either. Yes, he could use a sword, and he supposed he could handle one well (after all, he had fought Hiei with a sword, and come away without a scratch), but his forte was his whip!

Kurama closed his eyes in order to calm himself, and had another epiphany. He couldn't get out of this. If he did, he'd seem like a coward, _and _he'd lose five thousand yen. And thanks to Yusuke's recent escapades, he didn't even _have_ five thousand yen…

"What's wrong, Minamino_-san_?" The honorific sounded more like an insult. "Scared?"

"No," Kurama replied, still calm, "I'm only considering what attack to use."

And it was true. After the initial panic had subsided, Kurama had felt slightly detached. He felt himself sink into a stance for a thrust, and viciously attacked the poor post. The shinai splintered on contact. He studied the result analytically. More of the left was destroyed than the right. It hadn't been a dead on hit. Which meant he was out of practice…

Kurama blinked. He had never been _in _practice! Where were these thoughts coming from?

"Wow…" came a slightly shocked voice from behind him. "That was… amazing! You're like Saitou Hajime or something!"

"No," Kurama corrected him, still slightly out of it, and unconsciously stiffening at the historical figure's name. "Saitou uses the Gatotsu. That was…" He blinked, and came completely back to himself. "…something else." Discarding the shattered shinai, he forced himself to relax and began to walk back to the bleachers. "Oh!" he said, suddenly remembering. Kurama turned around and began to walk back to the senior. Holding out his hand, he said in all seriousness. "Five thousand yen, please."

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The story had spread across the entire school by first period. In the middle of second period, Kurama was forced to pay the consequences.

"Would Minamino Shuichi come to the main office. I repeat, would Minamino Shuichi come to the office immediately."

Kurama looked expectantly at his Chemistry teacher for permission, taking his eyes off of the water he was heating for two seconds. Two seconds later, it began to boil. "Ack!" He quickly took the water away from the heat, bowed to his teacher, and left, shutting the door softly behind him.

"Yes? You called me, Fugiwara-sensei?" Kurama said to the principal when he reached the office.

"Thank you for coming, Minamino-san. Actually, Myojin-sensei wanted to talk to you for a few minutes. He's promised me it won't take very long, so you should be back in your classes before third period." As the principal said this, the man standing beside him nodded. He was a rather tall man around twenty-eight, with straight, rather messy black hair and red-brown eyes. He began to walk out of the room, motioning to Kurama to follow him.

The pair walked down the hallway without saying a word, until Myojin reached another door. As the older man opened it, Kurama saw that it was to a small office, which he guessed was Myojin's.

"Come in, Minamino-san, come in." Kurama followed the man into the office, wondering what it was the Myojin wanted to talk to him about. "Now, there seems to be a problem. I'm the teacher sponsor for the kendo club, and teach Literature on the side, and one of my students, Yoshikuni Takumi, has reported that you were at this morning's kendo practice."

"I was," Kurama agreed, warily. "I've always been under the impression that anyone could watch."

"Yes, that's true, but you did more than 'watch', ne?"

Kurama bowed his head, remembering the bet, and the five thousand yen in his pocket.

"There's no reason to be ashamed, Minamino-san. I just want your side of the story. Yoshikuni has said that you, to use his words, 'hustled' him, which somehow I doubt." The teacher sounded somewhat amused at the accusations. "All I want to know is what happened."

"I was watching your students practice, and I noticed Yoshikuni-san. Frankly sir," Kurama said, looking Myojin in the eye, "he's not very good, and he was breaking a lot of the shinai just by sheer force, not actual prowess."

Myojin laughed at Kurama's frankness. "Yes, I know, but the kendo _club _is open for anyone who wants to join. The _team _you have to try out for. Even if all the members of the club end up on the team anyway. We don't have enough people interested to make them separate."

Kurama nodded, remembering the various announcements he had heard about the difference at the beginning of the year. "He noticed I was watching, so I told him that I was just observing that he seemed to have skipped the basic training."

Myojin laughed again. "You're right, but I didn't think you were into kendo. You didn't join the club, and most who are interested in sword arts do."

Kurama shrugged. "It's a recent interest. A friend of mine practices, and I began going to his training sessions. I was merely applying what I'd learned by watching him to Yoshikuni," he lied.

"Your friend must be very good," Myojin said, watching Kurama carefully.

Kurama nodded, sticking to his story. "He's almost as good as the assistant master."

Myojin stopped questioning his story, though suspicion stayed in the back of his eyes. "What did Yoshikuni say after that? I know he's not one to take an insult like that lying down."

"He didn't, sir. When he recognized who I was, he bet that I would never be able to break a shinai like he had been doing." Kurama shrugged again and placed his hand in the pocket that held the money. "I accepted the challenge, and proved him wrong."

"Good job. That braggart needed to be taken down a peg or two. However…" Myojin stood up and came around the desk to lean against it. "The fact remains that you destroyed school property, with the intention to do so. I'm afraid it is my duty to punish you." Kurama gulped. "I haven't told the principal yet. The way I see it, there are two fitting punishments. One: I tell the principal, who calls your mom, you serve somewhere around a month of detention, and you have to pay for the shinai you broke. That's the harsh one, the one I don't want to do. The easier one is that you join the kendo club."

Kurama blinked. "What?"

"You're a good swordsman, and you say you've had no training. If you got training, you'd be one of the best fighters I've ever seen! Besides, it's either that, or detention…"

"I'll join," Kurama hastily agreed, not wanting to get detention for a month.

That was just over a week ago… Kurama reflected, as he swung the shinai down for the hundredth time. By now, Myojin-sensei was seriously regretting ever letting him join. There'd been mishaps, mistakes, and a few times where he just plain _missed._ To put it frankly, he was _not _all that good at fighting with swords under a style.

Unless he concentrated, his grip slipped into the one for the whip, and he would swing and expect to hear a sharp _crack_. Only afterwards would he realize he was holding a much shorter sword. The only good thing about the practices was the fact that he was the best dodger in the club. He couldn't hit his opponent, but his opponent was never able to hit him, either.

"Alright, everyone, that's enough for today. Go on home," he heard Myojin order. Everyone passed by him on the way out. Kurama stayed behind in order to help pick up. It was the least he could do, after letting down Myojin-sensei every practice. "Thanks, Minamino-san."

Kurama bowed, and was about to leave, before Myojin asked him to wait for a minute while he put the shinai away. "Wasn't sure you were going to," Myojin told him, as he jogged back over to talk to him. Motioning with his head, he continued, "Walk with me."

Kurama followed the man out the door. "I'm sorry I'm putting you through all of this," the teacher apologized after a couple of seconds of silence. Kurama looked up at the man in surprise. "I just know that you can be really good at this. And I want you to prove it, not only to yourself, but to me as well. There's a match coming up, two weeks, in fact, and I want you to participate. All of the other students will be, good and bad. You're welcome to back out, but I would like you to at least try. Don't worry about making a fool of yourself," his instructor continued, with a slight bitter tone, "The whole school does that every match."

"I'll think about it," Kurama promised. The pep talk helped a little, and he had been half-expecting one, anyway. He waved good-bye to the man as he turned off into his road. Reaching his house, he called, "I'm home!" as he went inside, more out of habit than anything else. His mom was working late, probably to spend more time with Hatanaka-san, so the house was his for while.

Going upstairs, he dropped his bag at the door, and went over to his bed. Picking up the small notebook, Kurama flipped through it until he found the entry he was looking for. The date was that of just over a week ago, the day after he'd joined the kendo club.

_I've had another dream, following the same theme as the others. This makes the third one in just a little less than a week. This one started off slightly differently, but showed remarkable similarity to one incident that occurred today. In it, I found myself standing in front of a stout wooden pole bound with rope. I was holding a katana. Before I could begin to attack, a scruffy man, much taller than I was, approached me, and bet a __ryo__ that I couldn't damage the pole at all. I didn't say anything, merely waved him off. I remember narrowing my eyes, focusing on the pole, and unsheathing the sword with lightning speed—so fast, it almost seemed like the god-like speed of legends. The pole was cut in half. _

_Earlier today, a fellow student bet five thousand yen that I wouldn't be able to break a shinai by attacking a post with it. I shattered it in a straight thrust__ against the post. _

_I believe that these dreams are being influenced by the events in every day life, though I couldn't say why they all seem to take place in the __Japan__ of the 1850's. _

Kurama shut the small journal, thinking. The dreams did have a common thread, something besides the era. If he could figure that thread out, perhaps the dreams would stop. But meanwhile, he decided as he grabbed the shinai that he had bought with his winnings, practice makes perfect. Retreating to the yard, Kurama swung the weapon again and again.

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Kurama was silent as he approached the man worshipping at a small shrine. The man didn't even know he was there until he spoke in a soft voice that somehow managed to convey a great danger. "Are you Nakamura Jirou, of the army of the Shogunate?" The man, startled, turned around, and Kurama saw that he matched the description given to him by Katsura. "I have no personal quarrel with you, but for the advancement of the revolution, you must die."

The man gasped, realizing why Kurama had been sent—as an assassin to end his life. Quickly, he drew his sword and ran in front of a tree, likely trying to escape, or call for help. A futile effort. Kurama ran with him, faster, so that when the man stopped, he was in front of him. Unsheathing his own sword, Kurama swung down and clove the man's head in two as he screamed…!

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Sekamu: okay, so there is another dream scene in this chapter. But it's not incredibly long...! Sorry if it's a little confusing, I'm trying to do dream scenes like they're real because it's more fun that way. Again, I stole the assassination from Samurai X: Trust. Never found out the guy's name, I don't think, so we just used a random Japanese name generator. I love that thing... also were we got the name "Yoshikuni". As far as I know, there is no actual Yoshikuni at Meiou high. But I'm rambling again. See you next week!


	4. The Day of the Match

sekamu: okay, this is when things get interesting...

Myst: Define "interesting"... ;worried look;

Sekamu: Don't worry, just more Kurama torture... ;evil laughter;

Myst: ;sweatdrop;

Sekamu: oh, and the beginning of the chap jumps forward a bit. He's been having the assassination dreams for a while. It's just a time skip. NO, I did NOT miss uploading a chapter. And I'm sorry for not updating sooner!!

Myst: You're b-day party rocked, though.

Sekamu: Didn't it though? ;grin; Anyway... on with the fic!!

Kurama woke up with a gasp. Another assassination dream…he reached over to his bedside table, feeling for the journal. It was gone.

Kurama sat up in bed, eyes darting around the room. The window was open, and a short figure was sitting on the sill with the journal, flipping through it. "Hiei!"

Hiei glanced up from Kurama's dream journal. "Fox. Since when do you keep a diary?"

"It's not a diary…" growled Kurama, attempting to snatch the book away from Hiei, who merely hopped to a higher branch and continued to read.

He then looked back down at Kurama. "And since when do you know so much about swords?"

"Hiei… the book…" Kurama said flatly. Hiei finally conceded in tossing the journal back down to Kurama who gave him a stern look before grabbing a pen and quickly scribbling down his most recent dream.

_I've had another one of _those _dreams. This time the name of the man was __Shigekura__Jubei__. But that wasn't the man I feel most guilty about killing. I'm more concerned about __one__ of the statesman's bodyguards, __Kiyosato__ Akira. The look on his face was one of pure terror. Overall, the dream was __m__uch more vivid than the others I've had. I could almost smell the blood…_

Just as Kurama finished writing all of this down, something that shone black in the moonlight dripped onto his hand. The blood from his dream.

Uttering a small cry, Kurama dropped the notebook and ran to the bathroom. Flicking on the light, he was that there was a line of the liquid running vertically across his left cheek. Wiping it away frantically and trying to see where it was coming from, Kurama saw only pale, unbroken skin. His eyes searched out their reflection in the mirror, and for a second, Kurama could have sworn they were amber—but when he blinked, the returned to their natural green.

Kurama stared at his reflection for a few more seconds before turning and walking shakily back to his room. Hiei, meanwhile, had picked up his dream journal again and had continued to flip through it.

"You're going soft on me, fox."

"What?"

"You're so concerned about all these people. They're just _dreams._"

"I know!" Kurama protested. "It just… feels real."

"You never cared before," Hiei glared at him.

"Maybe I should have," Kurama mumbled.

"Hn." Hiei grunted, tossing the journal back onto the bed. He put one foot on the window sill, saying scornfully, "You are going soft." And he was gone.

Kurama only stood there, before lying back on the bed, not bothering to go to sleep for the rest of the night.

* * *

The day of the match between Meiou and Sarayashiki was fast approaching. With constant practices both before and after school, Kurama had improved—slightly. 

"Well, at least you're hitting the dummy consistently now," Myojin told him after the extra practice Kurama had asked him to supervise. "That's an improvement, right?"

Kurama shook his head. "I'm going to try and go again. Just one more hit."

"That's what you've said for the last five rounds!"

Kurama ignored him, and walked over to the post the two were practicing on. He crouched into the stance that Myojin had drilled into him, and swung the sword—hitting the dummy at an angle. "Argghh!" _If only you were a whip, _he thought, glaring at the traitorous shinai.

"Alright, Minamino, that's it. The school will be closing soon. Go home, _please._" Myojin begged.

Kurama sighed. "Very well. I'm trying sir, I really am…!"

"I know you are. And you are improving."

"Yes, but what about Yoshikuni's challenge?" Kurama pointed out.

"Maybe this style isn't the right one for you. Do you know what style your friend practices?"

"No…"

Myojin sighed. "Alright. I'll see you in the morning."

Kurama blinked. "But tomorrow's Saturday." Clearly he was forgetting something…

Myojin grinned. "Yes, and the day of the match. Good luck!" he called over his shoulder at Kurama as he jogged out of the gym. He chuckled at the look on Kurama's face, and headed to Bar Ambrose. He had an appointment there, and he was already late.

"Ah! Fujita-san!" Myojin called across the bar, catching sight of his friend. He sat down next to the police officer and smiled cheerfully at him. "Usually if I'm a few minutes late, you leave." All he got was a nod and a glare in response. "How was work?"

"Hm," the officer grunted.

"That bad, huh?" Silence. "I am sorry for being late. I was practicing with one of my students, you see. He'll be fighting in the match tomorrow."

"Really?"

"Ah! A word! Yes, he will be. Are you coming to watch like you usually do?"

"Of course."

Myojin sighed. "Expect to see everyone beaten into the ground as usual, then."

Fujita looked at him in surprise. "But if you were practicing with that one student…"

Myojin propped his head on his hand. "Yes, I thought he would be good. Not quite there yet, though. The only thing I can think of is that this is the wrong style for him, but most students learn by leaps and bounds with Kamiya Kasshin-ryu." He sighed. "I don't know what to do."

Fujita was honestly interested now. "What's the boy's name?"

Myojin blinked. "Hm? Oh, he's-" his cell phone cut him off. "Hello?" A short pause. "Yes, I'm on my way home. No I'm not in a bar!" Another pause. "How do you _know_ which one?!?!" A longer pause. "Alright, I'm coming, I'm coming…" Hanging up, Myojin apologized to Fujita. "I'm sorry, that was my sister. She said she would come get me herself if I'm not home in fifteen minutes. I'll see you at the match tomorrow, then." Without another word the teacher left the bar, and a _very _frustrated police officer, behind.

* * *

_The dreams, if that's indeed what they are, have taken an odd turn. Last night, not only did I kill again, but it wasn't a scheduled kill. It wasn't an assignment, an assassination. Actually I killed__ an __assassin who was after me. _

_Not only that, but a woman seems to have entered the equation. She was beautiful, with long, dark hair, large eyes, and a kimono as white as the plum blossoms of which she smells__… _

_She's also the __reason that I believe__these dreams are__ something more. I've never met a woman whom I've ended up falling in love with, and I certainly am at least smitten with her in this dream. She says that I have caused the bloody rain to fall, and she seems to be right. The way I killed the assassin was by cutting him in half, his blood mixing with the rain, and staining her pure kimono. _

_Oddly enough, this is the clearest dream I've had since I killed __Kiyosato__. Perhaps the two dreams are somehow connected…?_

Kurama took a deep breath. This wasn't so bad, right? At least if you lose, you won't die like you would have at the Dark Tournament.

Somehow, that wasn't helping.

He took another deep breath. Come on! He'd had life-and-death combat experience, and he was letting some little sword fight scare him?

Yes.

Okay, self-pep-talk was not working at all.

Another deep breath. He could do this, he could do this, he could do this, he couldn't do this… Stopping that train of thought, too. He caught sight of the concession stand out of the corner of his eye, and decided to walk over there to get a drink of water. It might help calm him down. Hopefully.

He was too preoccupied with seeing how much money he had in his wallet to watch where he was going. Which might be why he bumped into one of the spectators. "Ah! I'm sorry about that," Kurama apologized to the man. Looking up, he had a moment of recognition. "My apologies, officer, I wasn't watching where I was going." With a final bow, Kurama continued on his way, not noticing the look that Fujita was giving him.

"Fate is a funny thing, sometimes. I forgot that Meiou has pink uniforms…" the officer muttered to himself, tracking the magenta keikogi and bright red hair through the crowd. He'd been extremely surprised at first (It was as if Himura Kenshin had stepped out of the past) but as he had said, fate can be a funny thing. He shook his head, and approached Myojin. After the two friends had greeted each other, they parted: Fujita to find his seat, Myojin to do some last minute encouragement.

* * *

"Will Yasuo Tanaka and Minamino Shuichi come to the mat, please?" 

Kurama gulped. Not yet! He looked up as he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Go on, Minamino. Good luck," Myojin told his student. Kurama nodded, and stepped forward to receive and put on his equipment.

Kurama took the stance of seigan, the only form that he'd managed to learn in his two weeks of Kamiya Kasshin-Ryu. He waited patiently for Yasuo to attack first. hoping he could figure out his style before attempting any hits. He didn't have to wait long, as Yasuo charged forward in a downward strike aimed at the head.

Kurama sidestepped the attack easily. Yasouo moved into a series of quick, efficient blows. He was good—once or twice the shinai nearly clipped Kurama's shoulder. Kurama, however, watched carefully. His hesitation paid off when Yasuo attempted another strike at the shoulder, only to miss by a couple of millimeters. Yasuo's momentum threw him just slightly off balance.

_Now._

Kurama stepped forward and swung the sword down at his opponents head, but the shinai glanced off the _man._ The judge yelled a command that halted the match. Kurama held his breath, awaiting the decision.

"Too shallow," the referee announced, motioning for the match to continue. Kurama sighed. Sure, he could probably dodge all day, but if only he could land a hit…!

After a few more moments of dodging, Kurama decided it was now or never. He shifted his feet forward and attempted another strike. The clack of shinai against shinai echoed through the gym as Yasuo deflected the attack, and moved his blade into a sideways slash aimed at the abdomen.

The bamboo sword collided with Kurama's stomach. Yasuo had apparently put all his strength into the blow; despite the sturdy _do,_ Kurama lost his breath and was overtaken by extreme nausea. He couldn't hear the judge's announcement of the points or the crowd yelling, and couldn't see anything but darkness.

The next thing he knew, Yasuo was on the mat unconscious, and he was holding the remaining splinters of what had been his shinai.

He blinked. What had…?

"Minamino! That was great! Amazing! That'll show that cat-eyed freak that Meiou can do swords!! I knew you could do it!" Myojin practically ran onto the mat, eager to congratulate (and possibly glomp) his student. Kurama just nodded, wondering exactly what he had done. "Come on, you've got a while to wait. The rest of the team will take it from here." Kurama allowed himself to be led of the mat, not letting go of the hilt of what remained of his shinai.

Kurama collapsed on the bench, and hung his head, studying his hands held in front of him. He had blacked out…. and beaten a good fighter while he was out of it. What was going on? Mentally, Kurama listed everything that had been odd or out of place over the last few weeks.

One: An interest in swords. He's never been interested, or even very good at using them, merely impressed by Hiei's ability and adept at using a grass blade as one.

Two: The bet with Yoshikuni. He _still _didn't know how he had known the different stances, _or _what attack he had used on the post.

Three: The blackout during the match. No clue what happened there.

Four: (Kurama hesitated to add this one.) Those dreams. Where were they coming from? Why the Revolutionary War? Who was that woman? _And who was he supposed to be? _

"Minamino?" Myojin was standing in front of him. Kurama had been so lost in thought that he hadn't realized the matches were over.

He stood. "Thank you, Myojin-sensei. Do you need help with the equipment?" Kurama asked.

A happy smile graced the man's face. "Yeah, I could use the help, if you've got a moment. I wanted to congratulate you personally, anyway."

Kurama shook his head, examining the shinai for what felt like the hundredth time. "Why? Whatever happened out there, I didn't do it."

Myojin blinked. "Are you kidding? You were the only one that won their match. Not even Saruwatari, and you know how good she is."

"But I don't even know how I won!" Kurama tried to explain.

Myojin laughed, until he got a good look at Kurama's face. He stopped, and sat down next to him. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"Dead serious."

"What do you mean, you don't know how you won?" Now that Myojin knew there was a problem, he would try to help fix it.

"I mean, that after he hit me in the stomach, I blacked out until Yasuo was on the floor. _I don't know what happened between then._"

"You stood back, mouthed something—all I caught was the word "ryu"—and then you hit him with about six strikes in less than two seconds! I'd never seen anything like it! It was lightning fast, almost like the god—" Unfortunately for Kurama, Myojin was easily distracted.

"God speed of legends, I know." Kurama muttered, remembering the dream he had had less than three days ago, and the terrified look on his victim's face. He had possessed the same speed when he had killed Kiyosato. Kurama mentally sighed. Another question to add to a list that had neither answers nor end.

"How do you know about that?" Myojin asked, surprised. "I don't think I've ever mentioned it in practice."

Kurama opened his mouth to lie again, and was slightly surprised when, instead, the truth came out. "I've been having strange dreams lately."

"What does that have to do…?"

"In them, I'm an assassin in the Bakumatsu for the Ishin Shishi. I'm an excellent swordsman, possessing the speed of the gods, and I practice the sword style called Hiten Misturugi-ryu."

Myojin stiffened, and said seriously, "Where did you hear about that style?"

Kurama blinked. He tried to remember if he had ever seen Myojin look and act so serious. "Just from my dreams. It's an actual style? I tried doing some research, but I couldn't find anything."

"No, it's _not _an actual style," A new voice spoke behind them. "Don't let Noboru-_chan_ fill your head with nonsense, cutie."

Kurama looked up in surprise at a tall woman with her light brown hair cut into a pixie cut and wearing in the Sarayashiki kendo uniform—a blue gi and dark gray hakama—smirking at Myojin.

"It is _so _a real style! My great-grandfather knew a follower of the school! _And _he learned some of it himself." Myojin wasn't the happy-happy-joy-joy Myojin anymore, Kurama noticed. _Uh oh…_

"AND DON'T CALL ME _CHAN!_" Myojin realized belatedly. "I'm five years older than you, and--"

"And there're _years _difference in our maturity," the woman's smirk grew. "And several _centimeters _in height difference."

One could distinctly hear a snap as Myojin tackled the woman. Kurama looked at the two of them wrestling on the floor. "Uh, excuse th—" Kurama shook his head. "—me… are you two… friends?"

The woman by now had pinned Myojin to the ground and was leaning her elbows on his head with her chin resting in her hands. "No, not particularly." She winked. "We're not dating if that's what you're wondering."

"DATING!" Myojin yelled in surprise. "Like I would _date _an ugly like her!"

The woman glared down at Myojin, and promptly began whacking him as hard as she could. "You're just jealous because the team I coach is actually _competent!_"

"My team is good too!"

"Yeah, you finally won your _first match_ in three years!"

"At least my students have brains!"

"YOU TAKE THAT BACK!"

Kurama blinked, wide-eyed. _Scary _kendo coaches…

After a few more seconds, another person entered the fight, only this one with the intention of breaking it up. Fujita Goro picked the two combatants up by their collars.

"Stop flirting, you two."

The two hung there, glaring at each other and Fujita. Kurama was even more confused. "So the two of you _are _dating…?"

"Yes," both of them muttered at the same time. Kurama blinked. _Okay… _

Fujita dropped the two of them to the ground, ignoring the grunts of pain. Kurama gulped as the police officer stared at him intently—not angrily, just studying him. "We'll meet at the usual place," he told the two sword masters, still looking at Kurama, before turning and stalking away. "He's beginning to awake…" Kurama barely caught the words.

The two were standing now, not looking at each other. Myojin nodded at the woman. "This is Tsukayama Ayami. She's my…" he trailed off, muttering the last word. "…girlfriend."

Tsukayama whacked him over the back of his head. "More like your keeper, Noboru-_chan._"

"Don't call me CHAN!"

Kurama sweat-dropped as the two were wrestling again. Deciding to take advantage of the opportunity, he quietly stood, and left the gym.


	5. Scar on the Soul

Sekamu: okay, so it starts out sad, but it gets better! Promise!

Myst: by the way, the italics are from the dream journal. Last time you see it. The regular is the real world.

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_The dreams about Tomoe have continued. I am thankful, almost, since she seems to make the assassinations much more bearable. Though I wonder sometimes how long this can last. _

_The __Shinsengumi__ are becoming troublesome, though that should come as no surprise. We've recently been found—many of the central leaders have been kille__d, and __Katsura__-san is in hiding,__a__s are Tomoe and I. We have a small house in the country, where we live as husband and wife. We sell medicine in town, and keep a garden as well. __Everything is quiet, but I feel as though this peace__ will no__t-__ cannot__-__ last. _

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_She's dead, and I've killed her. _

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Kurama awoke from the mental forest crying. His pillowcase and pillow were already soaked. Pushing himself up, he realized that the liquid was too sticky to be anything but blood. He was bleeding again, Kurama realized, from the same place as usual, his left cheek. With a sigh, he got out of bed, removed the pillowcase and went to the bathroom in order to wipe the blood away and soak the bedding.

Standing in front of the mirror, Kurama noticed that, unlike the other times when there was only a vertical line of blood, this time, there was another line crossing it. Turning around, he wiped it off of his face with a towel that he had used for this purpose and hidden before. Kurama turned around again to fill the sink with water to wash away the blood—and saw that unlike similar incidents, this time you could see where the blood had come from. A cross-shaped scar was carved into his cheek. Oddly, it looked as if it was years old, though it had just appeared. _A scar on my soul… _

He clutched the sink, staring at the scar. This was the proof that these dreams weren't dreams. They had actually happened. But that still didn't answer any of the hundreds of questions that Kurama had left. Who had he been in these dreams? Why was he getting them? What had made them begin?

Kurama let go of the sink abruptly. The dreams… they had been affecting him in the real world as well. Not only the scar, but also the kendo. His eyes widened. The bet, the match—the person he was in the dreams wasn't a figment of his imagination, but an actual part of him.

Meaning…

Meaning these weren't dreams… they were memories.

Through personal experience, Kurama knew that one could be reborn. Was that what this was? Were these memories of a past life?

_But who was I? _

Attempting to put these thoughts aside for now, Kurama quickly rinsed the pillow case, and put a bandage over his left cheek to hide the scar. He carried the bedding, soaking wet, back to his room, where he hung it in his closet. Considering that he doubted he would go to sleep for the rest of the night, Kurama gathered that he wouldn't need it.

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_The phantoms that haunt our minds at night never seem as bad in the morning, _Kurama reflected, as he walked down the stairs. He was still extremely worried, of course, but he was able to put them aside well enough to think about other things.

"Good morning," he greeted his mother, passing by her on the way to his seat.

She nodded to him from her chair. "Good mor—Shuichi! What happened to your face?"

"I tripped last night getting a drink of water," Kurama lied glibly. "I cut my face by accident."

Shiori reached out to remove the bandage to see how bad the cut was, but Kurama stopped her. "I've already treated it."

She nodded. "What are you planning to do today?"

That's right, Kurama remembered suddenly. It was Saturday. "I'm going to meet up with some friends. We planned this a while ago, for this Saturday and the next," he told his mother, actually able to tell her the truth for once. The team had arranged to meet at Genkai's temple to help repair damage done to it. Even Hiei would be there, which was a surprise. Hiei didn't often show up for these little gatherings, but this time he had agreed to come.

* * *

Climbing up the steps to Genkai's temple, Kurama tried to figure out what he would say when the rest of the group noticed the bandage. Probably what he had told his mother. It was a workable story. He could say that he had slipped on a wet spot on the kitchen floor, grabbed a bowl that had broken and ended up accidentally cutting his face. That would work… 

He reached the top of the stairs in time to hear Hiei comment to Yusuke, "So you got arrested for a bar fight _again, _detective?"

_Again…?_

"Yusuke…" Kurama said, in a slightly dangerous voice. "What does Hiei mean by 'again'?"

Yusuke stiffened as he realized that Kurama was behind him. And, as always, he opened his mouth… and immediately put his foot in it. "Do you mean the time you bailed me out about a month ago, or last week?"

"Yusuke!!" Kurama was more than a little annoyed. He glared at the detective. "Was when I bailed you out the first time you've been arrested, or not…?" The tone of his voice clearly implied that if it hadn't been the first time, there Would. Be. Pain.

Yusuke gulped, looking into Kurama's amber eyed glare. Wait… amber eyes? He decided he really _really_shouldn't comment on that at this point. And the way Kurama was looking at him implied that if Yusuke didn't tell the truth, Kurama would know.

"No, it would probably be about the fifth time."

Kurama shut his eyes and sighed. When they opened again, the Spirit Detective noticed they were green. "I suppose that I should expect that from you. But I'm not bailing you out again."

Yusuke nodded. "Okay!" He had the sense that somehow, he was very lucky to be alive…

At that moment, Genkai came out of her temple. "Is everyone here?"

"The idiot's not," Hiei stated, referring to Kuwabara.

Genkai snorted. "He probably forgot we were going to meet. He's worse than you, dimwit, and that's saying something."

Yusuke muttered something under his breath that sounded distinctly like "crotchety old hag." He promptly went flying down the stairs. There were two loud yells.

_Two? _Kurama wondered, walking to the top of the steps. Distantly, at the bottom of the steps, he saw a dust cloud. Meaning the second yell had probably come from Kuwabara… and the two were now fighting.

Kurama turned back around. "Yusuke and Kuwabara should be back up here in about fifteen minutes. Or longer, depending on how long the fight lasts."

Genkai rolled her eyes. "Of course." She looked back and forth between Hiei and Kurama. "Meanwhile, the two of you can start to work. Hiei, you work on the roof. Kurama, you work on making lunch." The two nodded, before Hiei leaped to a tree and to the roof, while Kurama headed straight to the kitchen.

He had always considered himself to be a fair cook, but today, working in the kitchen went easier than he had expected it would be. He smiled to himself as he heard Yusuke and Kuwabara arguing as usual. Genkai had set them with fixing the door, and apparently one (or probably both) had broken some of the materials.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a cat slinking by. It seemed to be watching the fish that Kurama was cutting up. He had plenty, so Kurama tossed a couple of the slices to the feline. As he did so, he had a sudden flash of standing in another kitchen and slicing another fish. He again noticed the cat, but instead of throwing it a few pieces, the cat stole the whole fish. Kurama quickly grabbed it, saying, "Oh no, you don't! That's Kaoru-dono's dinner, de gozaru yo!" The cat promptly scratched his face, not letting go of the fish. Kurama didn't let go either. He'd had plenty worse in the Bakumatsu, some cat was _not_ going to make him give up that easily!

Kurama blinked, and he was back in Genkai's temple, only he was now sitting on the floor. "Oro?" he heard himself say, and he blinked again, promptly forgetting the odd little word. Shaking his head, he stood up. He remembered the dreams he'd had, and the epiphany of last night. Now the memories were following him into the daylight. This one didn't seem as bad as the ones he'd been having at night, though.

He shook his head, clearing it of the haunting thoughts. He shakily continued fixing lunch.

* * *

"Wow…" Kuwabara breathed. "Who knew you could cook, Kurama?" 

Kurama laughed slightly. It wasn't a talent he was expected to have, so it was understandable why Kuwabara had said so. Even Genkai looked slightly shocked, and she had been the one who suggested he cook. He looked around the table. No one was eating, but that was half expected. He, on the other hand, had served himself (and the others) and had begun to eat. That seemed to be what the others were waiting for, after they saw that he did not keel over, also ate.

Kurama grinned at the others. They all clearly liked it, as Yusuke raised his hand, and said, "I vote we make Kurama permanent cook." The others raised their hands as well, even Hiei and Genkai.

Kurama just grinned. Until Kuwabara mentioned the bandage.

"Hey, Kurama, what happened to your face?"

Kurama stiffened imperceptibly, then relaxed. "I slipped on a puddle of water in the kitchen. I grabbed a bowl, it broke, and I cut my face."

Hiei gave him a skeptical look. "And this doesn't have anything to do with it spontaneously bleeding?"

Kurama twitched. Great. Now _none _of them would believe him…

"Spontaneously bleeding? You okay?" Yusuke sounded slightly concerned.

"It was nothing," Kurama insisted.

"It's always something. Otherwise it wouldn't be happening," Genkai grumbled.

All four of them looked at him expectantly. He ignored them and focused on the food.

And _that _only worked for about twenty seconds.

"Well…" Yusuke prompted him.

"Just forget it. It's nothing you should be worried about, de gozaru yo."

They all blinked. "_What _did you say?" Kuwabara asked.

"Oro?" Kurama went red under the staring.

That was it for Yusuke. "What language are you speaking?" he got out between the laughter at Kurama's extremely innocent and confused expression. Kuwabara began to laugh as well, though Hiei and Genkai were both only smirking.

"What are you talking about…?"

They all laughed a little harder. Kurama stood up and walked out, still red, claiming, "I'm going to go see how much gardening I'll have to do next week."

But he didn't. As soon as he was out of the temple, he went straight to the steps to go home. The others could do the dishes. Served them right.

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Sekamu: ;;Laughs evily;; yes! Kurama now has the scar... you see explanation for that next chapter, though. so please no questions. Kurama has already formed a theory, if any one wants to guess. You get it right, you get a cookie!!

Myst: Were they baked by you?

Sekamu: Yep!

Myst: Get it wrong. She can't cook.

Sekamu: shut up, you. But anyway, please review!!


	6. Saito Revealed

The next week practically flew by. The dreams at night had taken the same turn that the flash in the kitchen had. They were almost… happy. It was a great relief, even if the dreams seemed to be slightly out of order. Kurama had stopped writing in the dream journal after Tomoe had died. He still didn't want to write anymore than the sentence that he had already.

Kurama continued to have kendo practice everyday after school, though he wasn't making much progress in Kamiya Kasshin-ryu. His mind kept wandering back to the sword style that Tsukayama said didn't exist, but Myojin insisted did. Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu…

He still wasn't sure if he truly was remembering a past life, or was merely going insane.

Other than that, it was a normal week.

Until Saturday.

"Weren't you planning to hang out with some friends today, Shuichi?" his mom asked, when she saw that he wasn't actually leaving.

"Yes…"

"Come on, shoo. You'll have fun."

And with that, Kurama found his coat thrust at him, the door open, and him out of the house.

Kurama wandered, not really wanting the questioning to begin again, but still his feet somehow came to the train station that would take him to Genkai's temple. Sighing, he mentally admitted defeat and bought a ticket.

When he got there, everyone was already inside and working. Deciding to avoid the interrogation for now, he headed for the bamboo forest. Since Kurama was the plant master, Genkai had decided that he would work on getting rid of the dead and sickly stalks last week.

Kurama began his job easily. By coaxing the roots to shrink on the ones that needed to be removed, it was a simple task to bring them down. Then he found one that seemed perfectly healthy, but wasn't. Because the stalk believed that it was fine, it was much more stubborn about its roots than the others, and refused to allow Kurama to use his trick. Eventually, with much convincing on his part, he got the roots undone enough for him to start pushing the stalk down.

It uprooted unexpectedly, and sent Kurama tumbling down a small rise. "Ack!" He tumbled to a stop in front of a old, slightly rusty sword. He glared at the stalk. He could of sworn he heard it snicker. Standing up, he saw that the sword was stuck into the ground at the foot of a grave.

Chills ran down his spine as he stepped forward and dusted off the name on the headstone. "Himura Kenshin…?"

"So you found your grave, Battousai," a cold voice spoke from behind him. Kurama jumped and turned around to see Fujita Goro. "You haven't remembered…?" Only now did Kurama realize that the man was carrying a sword, and only because he began to draw it. He blinked as he felt his own hand fly to his waist. What was he thinking? He didn't have a sword with him! _But… this one could use one if you did. _Kurama glanced at the sword. His eyes refocused on Fujita as he brought the sword in front of his face and spoke, "Perhaps I shall have to make you."

Kurama ran, snatching the sword as he dashed by. He heard the bamboo behind him virtually explode as Fujita attacked, using a Gatotsu. _How did I know that? Was Fujita a part of the past life? __And was the past life the one speaking to me? _

He burst out of the bamboo grove, sprinting toward the temple. He skid to a stop in front of a surprised Yusuke and Kuwabara. _They must have come out because of the noise, _Kurama absently thought.

"Kurama? When did you get here?" Kuwabara wondered.

Yusuke shoved the idiot to the side, asking instead, "What's going on?"

"I don't know! Fujita-san's trying to kill me!"

Yusuke blinked. The name sounded familiar…. oh yeah! The Squinty-Eyed Policeman! Yusuke blinked again as said Squinty-Eyed Policeman emerged from the forest. With a sword. Before Yusuke or Kuwabara could even open their mouths to warn Kurama, the fox's right arm swung up, holding a sheath, to block Squinty's thrust.

"Saito."

Yusuke was slightly surprised. Kurama's voice had gone…freaky. It was still his voice, but… different somehow. Older. He also looked more _normal_with the sword in his hand. Kurama looked up, and Yusuke drew in his breath slightly. His eyes… were _purple?_ What the…?

Kuwabara nudged him and asked, "Aren't his eyes normally green?" Yusuke whacked him and watched as Kurama turned around to face Squinty. For some reason, he was pretty happy about whatever was up with Kurama.

"So you do remember," he muttered.

"Of course." With that, Kurama (was he?) unsheathed the sword with speed Hiei would be jealous of, and sliced at the other swordsman.

He leaped out of the way, asking as he landed, "Then what's your name?" Kurama paused. His opponent smirked. "You don't remember that yet, do you?" The smirk widened as he noticed swirls of green in the redhead's predominately purple eyes.

"You called me Battousai…" he said slowly, "and you said the grave of Himura Kenshin was mine…"

"Yes," Saito said. He didn't give him the chance to respond before attacking again. Kurama parried, but not quickly enough to avoid getting cut across his chest. He winced, pressing the wound in an attempt to make it stop bleeding. "But you still don't remember enough."

"This one remembers that you are his enemy." Kurama crouched, then leapt into the air, coming down in a Ryutsuisen. Saito swung the sword up and blocked his downward swing, but before Kurama could recover and land properly, he felt the sword stab into his left shoulder.

"Still not good enough, Battousai," sneered the policeman, licking Kurama's blood from his blade. "You hope to fight me like this? As a weak child, weaker even than your years as the rurouni made you?" He spat. "Pathetic." Kurama was breathing hard, and losing blood from both his chest and shoulder. "The only way you have any hope of winning is by becoming the fighter you once were."

Kurama stood, and amber eyes snapped open, glaring at Saito. He sprinted towards the older man. There was a clang as the two crossed swords, glaring into each others' eyes, faces inches apart. They broke away, a surprised look on Saito's face, a calculating spark in Yoko's eyes. After the initial surprise, Saito began laughing softly. "The Demon of Kyoto is now a demon!" He stopped laughing, instead a predatory look on his face. "That's perfect. There's no need for me to hold back anymore."

Kurama's eyes widened as he watched Saito take a step back—and _change. _The air around him shivered, like it would looking over a fire, and when it stilled, Saito had wolf ears and a wolf tail.

"Then the nickname of "Wolf of Mibu" was also rather accurate. You're not the reincarnation of Saito. You _are _Saito Hajime, Captain of the Third Unit of the Shinsengumi."

Saito only smirked, and attacked the fox demon, sending him crashing towards Yusuke and Kuwabara. The two were able to get out of the way in time… but neither of them thought of the door they were standing in front of. The door that _they _had only just repaired.

CRASH!

The door they would now have to repair _again._

"KURAMA!"

"Damnit!"

A redheaded, green-eyed, confused figure dug himself out of the rubble. "…?"

"You fix it!" Yusuke yelled, flinging a hammer at him. It connected with Kurama's head with a loud clunk.

"Orororo…"

Looking up from the swirly-eyed redhead, Yusuke glanced around for Squinty. He'd vanished.

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Saito lit a cigarette as he took a roundabout way back to the place his force-issued motorcycle was parked. After the Battousai had reverted, the fight would have been no fun. He let himself smirk slightly as he climbed onto the bike. Now he sounded like that bird-headed idiot.

* * *

At least the child was beginning to remember for real now. And the fact that he was a demon was… interesting to say the least.

* * *

Koenma stalked down the hallway, cloak swirling behind his teenage form. According to Botan, the whole team would be working on fixing up Genkai's temple from the damage caused by Yakumo for the next few weekends.

"YUSUKE!"

A head poked out of the dining room. "Toddler? What's up?"

Koenma narrowed his eyes. "How many times have I told you not to call me that?" Yusuke grinned cheekily. Koenma sighed. "Never mind. Get everyone together. I have a new mission for you."

"I can get Kuwa-baka and Hiei for you, but…" Yusuke got a slightly evil glint in his eye. "Kurama's busy."

Koenma waved it off. "Whatever, just as many of you as are here." Yusuke nodded, and went to go get the other two Spirit Detectives.

* * *

"Alright," Koenma said as the three sat around the small table placed in one of the larger rooms of the temple. "As Yusuke may or may not have mentioned, I have a new mission for you."

"We get to fight demons, right?" Kuwabara asked excitedly.

"Actually, no. This time, you're to find a spirit." Yusuke blinked, Kuwabara was confused, Hiei didn't care. "This is a picture of him when he was alive," Koenma continued, bringing out an old Edo painting of a man with long, red hair tied up in a high ponytail, narrow, amber eyes, a sword held in front of his face over his right shoulder, and wearing a blue gi and white hakama. Overall, he looked deadly. "Hitokiri Battousai, age fourteen.

"This is the same man at the age of twenty-eight." Koenma brought out another painting, not noticing that Yusuke had looked up when Koenma had said the name of the figure. This painting was of a man with the same long red hair, but it was tied into a low ponytail. He too carried a sword, but this one was instead tied at his waist. His wide, purple eyes were set in a face marred by a cross shaped scar on his left cheek. His pink gi was tied back in order to free his arms while he did laundry, soaking something white in a small bucket. He was looking at the viewer with a very familiar confused expression on his face. "At this point in his life, he went by the name of Himura Kenshin."

Yusuke looked between the two pictures, one deadly, one innocent, yet jaded, and noticed the similarity between the two and one other that he knew already. "And _how _are we supposed to find this guy?"

"It depends on if he's remembered or not. He should have, but we can't be sure. We don't really know how old he is, but we think he'll look like what he did in his past life. If he's remembered, then he'll have that" Koenma pointed to the scar in the pictures. "on his left cheek. When I judged him, I noticed that he sill had it. Most scars don't actually appear on a ghost—that one did. It's a scar on his soul."

Yusuke glanced at Hiei and noticed that he was looking at the pictures as closely as he himself had. "A scar on the soul?"

"It was caused by something that basically traumatized him, something that stayed with him even into death. And hopefully after, since it might be the only way we can recognize him."

"Do you have any idea of the way that the reincarnation might have begun to remember?" Hiei asked, looking away from the paintings and at Koenma. Yusuke nodded, knowing what Hiei was thinking.

"Reincarnations usually dream about their past lives, before beginning to act like who they used to be. For instance, ours might develop an interest in swords…"

Yusuke began to smirk. "So where do you think we'll find this guy?"

Koenma shrugged. "He likes laundry, try the nearest Laundromat."

Yusuke leaned back in his chair, balancing it on two legs. "I know where he is…." he said, in a sing-song voice.

Koenma leapt to his feet. "What?!"

Yusuke set his chair back down on the floor with a thunk. "OI! Kurama! Get in here!!!"

CLATTERCRASHBANG!

"Oro!"

Kurama came limping into the room, nursing a swollen thumb. "Yusuke, the door's not going to be finished for a while if you keep making me break it…"

Yusuke ignored him, instead turning to Koenma. "Found him."

"You're telling me that _Kurama _is the reincarnation of _Kenshin?!" _

Yusuke grinned. "Yep."

During all of this, Kurama had begun to look slightly scared. Hoping that Yusuke and Koenma would get so wrapped up in their conversation (read: argument) that they wouldn't notice him leaving, he began inching toward the door.

Unfortunately, Yusuke decided to fix this… by tackling Kurama. "No you don't! You wouldn't _tell _us anything, so we had to figure it out for ourselves. GET BACK HERE!"

"Oro!" Kurama scrambled away from Yusuke, and would have made it, except that Yusuke was latched onto his leg. He met the ground with a thud. Before he could attempt to defend himself, Yusuke reached up and ripped the bandage off of his face. Kurama clapped his hand over his cheek, but not before everyone had seen the scar.

Koenma's jaw dropped open, as did Kuwabara's. Hiei and Yusuke looked rather triumphant. Kurama just looked down, hiding his eyes with his bangs, not looking at anyone.

Koenma blinked. "Well, that was easy enough… Surprisingly easy."

Yusuke stood up suddenly. "There's something else. Why were we supposed to find him, anyway?"

Koenma blinked, and tore his eyes away from Kurama's hand. Coughing, he began to explain. "Ahem. Right, you see, we've had a renegade ghost."

"A what?" Yusuke asked, deadpan.

"A spirit who escaped from the Spirit World. Unfortunately for them, their security's not as tight as they lead you to believe." The fox had a slightly evil glint in his eye.

"You would know…" Koenma muttered. Kurama gave him an innocent look, earning a sigh. "Anyway, that's the reason why most ghosts on the living plane exist—they left. "Most of them are harmless. This one, however, is different." Koenma sat at the head of the table. "Occasionally, we have an escapee who has evil intentions. In this case, we know what," He looked pointedly at Kurama, "Or _who _he's after. So we thought we'd warn him."

Kurama nodded. "Who is it?"

"His name's Enishi. He's after you because…"

"I know why," Kurama interrupted. Koenma decided not to press the subject. At that point, the people gathered heard a ringing coming from Koenma's cloak. He blushed.

"Hold on…" He withdrew a sleek cell phone and flipped it open. "Didn't I tell you not to call me unless it's important? What do you mean the high-security spirit escaped?!" A pause, and Koenma sighed. "Yes, I know that's exactly what you meant. It's a rhetorical question, George." Another pause. "STOP APOLOGIZING! Which one?" A short pause. "Ah. _THAT _one. He finally managed it? About time, I thought he was supposed to be _good._" A long pause. "Okay, maybe breaking into a vault _is _easier than breaking _out _of one. But why are you defending him?! I don't care if he _was _a good thief!" Koenma hung up the phone with a snap. "I'm sorry, but it appears that I am needed back in the Spirit World."

With that final sentence, Koenma stalked out of the temple muttering about how big, blue ogres can never handle anything for themselves, especially in a crisis.

After Koenma left, there was a moment where the four detectives sat and looked at each other. Kurama broke the silence, saying, "Well, I better get going…" He made a break for the door.

Yusuke rolled his eyes and tripped him.

"Pathetic," Hiei muttered, standing over the swirly-eyed Kurama.

Kuwabara was holding the second painting Koenma had shown them, and looked between it and Kurama. "You know, they do look alike…"


	7. Demonic Attack and Questions

Kurama opened the door, calling out, "I'm home!"

"How was your day with your friends?" His mom said from the kitchen.

"Fine!" Kurama called back. He headed for the stairs, not noticing that his mother had come into the hallway.

"Shuichi? Is that a _sword?_"

Kurama turned around, patented rurouni grin on his face. "Technically, it's a sakabato." Shiori gave him a look.

"Where did it come from?"

"I found it," Kurama said truthfully enough. Seeing the suspicious look on his mother's face, he quickly elaborated. "We met at the house of a friend, and she said I could have it. You know, to practice with!"

"Alright," Shiori said, still suspicious. She watched Kurama continue up the stairs, thinking, _He _couldn't_ have stolen it. He wouldn't do a thing li__ke that…_

"But I don't want that thing unsheathed in the house!"

"Okay, mom!"

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Knock, knock, knock.

"Noboru, you get that!"

"Alright, Kumiko, alright…" Myojin grumbled most of the way to the door of the apartment he shared with his sister.

He blinked as he opened the door to find one of his students outside. "Minamino-kun? What--?"

"I need to talk to you," Kurama interrupted. He looked down. "It's kind of important."

"Is this about the dreams?" Myojin said excitedly. "Cause I think I might have figured something out about that. I did some research, and I think you're remembering…"

"A past life. Yes, Myojin-sensei, I figured that out," Kurama laughed slightly, noticing the extremely disappointed expression on his teacher's face. Myojin clearly wanted to be the one to tell him.

"Yeah." Myojin finished lamely.

"But you're right in guessing that that's why I'm here. I found your name and address in the school directory. Like I said, I need to talk to you."

Myojin blinked at the red-head, noticing that his eyes looked ancient. "Okay, come on in." His voice fell as he whispered, "Don't pay any attention to my sister, she's a demon. A harpy or something, I swear."

"I HEARD THAT!"

Myojin winced, expecting something to come flying towards his head. When nothing collided with him, he looked up. His sister, a sweet looking woman with long hair pulled back in a ponytail and the red-brown eyes of the Myojin family, stood, glaring, in front of him.

Seeing that Myojin would not be very forthcoming, Kurama stepped forward and bowed. "You must be Myojin-sensei's sister. It's very nice to meet you, Myojin-dono."

The two exchanged looks. _Dono_ Kurama went red. "Sorry."

Myojin coughed. "Ah, Kumiko? Would you bring the two of us some tea?" He shrunk as she glared at him again.

"I'm not you maid," she muttered, stalking off toward the kitchen. "Hot or cold?"

Myojin's grin returned full force. "Hot!" he looked at Kurama. "You don't mind?" Kurama shook his head.

Myojin led him to the couch and sat. "You wanted to talk to me about the dreams."

"Right. Remember what I said? I was having dreams about being an assassin in Kyoto of the Bakumatsu, and I practiced Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu. Well, I've finished with that. I'm remembering a life in Tokyo. Oh! And I've remembered my name. Himura Kenshin."

Kurama was half-glad that Kumiko-dono had not returned with the tea. From the look on Myojin-sensei's face, he would have spit it all over Kurama or himself. He managed a strangled "What?"

"Himura Kenshin." Kurama repeated, slightly confused. He was even more confused when Myojin bowed _extremely_ low, clonking his head against the floor.

"Shishou!"

"Oro? Myojin-sensei, what--?"

Myojin sat back up. "Wow… this is amazing. I knew it... I knew that was Hiten Mitsurugi... man, to meet the reincarnation of my great-grandfather's mentor, this is totally amazing." He gave Kurama a look that could best be described as a begging puppy. "Um..." he began, his voice suddenly small and barely understandable. "C-could...couldyoupleaseteachmethehitemmitsurugiryusecretpleasepleasepleaseplease???"

"Say again...?"

"Will you please teach this unworthy one the Hiten Mitsurugi final secret, Himura-shishou?!" Yahiko practically shouted. There was a loud clatter and a tinkling noise in the kitchen, as well as a long string of curses that made Kurama wince.

Kumiko ran back into the room. "I AM NOT MAKING ANYMORE TEA! YOU CAN CLEAN IT UP YOURSELF! I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU'RE IN THE MIDDLE OF! GET IN THERE, _**NOW!" **_

Myojin's eyes were as big as dinner plates. "Yes ma'am!!"

Kumiko continued to seethe for a couple of moments before grabbing her purse, saying, "I'm going out for a while." She glared over her shoulder at the two of them one last time before slamming the door.

Myojin sighed, shaking his head after her. "She better not be off to the pool hall again. Last time we almost got thrown out because of her hustling."

"Never tried that," Kurama said absently, remembering the other cons he and Kuronue had pulled off.

"What was that?" Myojin asked suspiciously.

"Nothing!" Kurama grinned disarmingly.

Myojin half-smiled, half-smirked. "You have a lot of secrets, don't you?"

"What's makes you say that?" Kurama asked, guard up.

"Just a lot of little things. Hardly anyone knows anything about you. You're a very mysterious person, Minamino-san." Myojin grinned, serious moment over. "Anyway, we better get started on cleaning up that tea."

As the two of them grabbed old rags to mop up the spilt tea, Kurama asked, "What did you mean when you said I was your great-grandfather's mentor?"

"Do you remember Myojin Yahiko?"

"YAHIKO?" Kurama yelped. "Yahiko is your great-grandfather?"

Myojin grinned, glad to see that he had caught his student off gaurd. "Yep. You do remember him, then?"

Kurama merely nodded, still shocked. The two continued talking, Myojin telling Kurama some of his family history, and Kurama giving more details about Yahiko. "You know," Kurama commented at one point, "You and Yahiko look quite similar. I'm surprised that I didn't realize you two were related earlier."

Myojin smirked. "Don't worry about it, I wouldn't think you would be on the look out for descendents of friends from a past life. You're just lucky I believe in the occult. Otherwise, I'd have had you locked up."

Kurama nodded, smiling. To the ones not interested in things like that, he would have definitely seemed certifiable.

Conversation drifted back to Yahiko. "Little brat," Kurama muttered fondly. "He stole my sakabatou at one point. Managed to get it back in time though."

"In time for what?"

"Well, the whole reason he stole it was because of a man I had already defeated. That man, Gohei, incited him into taking it, at the same time hiring mercenaries to come after me. So I was stuck without my sword, in the middle of a fight. And, to make it worse, Yahiko was kidnapped. He didn't get it back to me until the last moment. But hey," Kurama said, shrugging, "No harm done. No one was hurt, except of course Gohei and the two mercenaries."

Myojin sighed, shaking his head. "Amazing."

"What is?"

"That now you can be so bad at swords."

Kurama sulked. "I'm getting better. And I'm beginning to remember more of Hiten Mitsurugi." He sighed, realizing something. "Speaking of, I don't think I should be on the kendo team anymore."

"WAH...?" Myojin was taken by surprise. "Why not?"

"Unfair advantage. For both the other team, and for our own. Besides, if I keep using Hiten Mitsurugi, I don't think the school would be very happy picking up the bill for all of the broken shinai."

Myojin laughed at the unexpected joke. "Yeah, I guess you're right. But I wish that wasn't the case. So that was Hiten Mitsurugi you used against the post that first day? Makes sense..." Myojin sighed. "Wish I could see some more. It's such an amazing style."

Kurama agreed.

Myojin blinked, remembering something that he'd been wanting to ask. "You wouldn't happen to know where the sakabatou is now... would you?" He asked, hope shining in his eyes.

"Hanging on my wall. Why?"

"Really?!" If Myojin was a girl, he would have squealed. "Can I see it? Please?"

"It's at my house..."

"I don't care!" Myojin said, finishing straightening the tea pot. "Let's go!"

"Oro..."

* * *

Kurama sighed as he kept pace with Myojin. How in the three worlds would he explain this to his mother? "Hi mom, my teacher is apparently a fan boy of my preincarnation and wanted to see my past life's sword!" That wouldn't work…

Something tickled at the back of Kurama's senses. Ki? Of _demons?_Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Myojin stiffen as well. So his teacher could sense ki… Kurama filed that tidbit of information away for future reference. Before he could ask any questions, three burly, rough looking men stepped out of the alleyway in front of the two. Kurama didn't even need to turn around to know that some—two, he believed—had appeared behind them.

"You!" one of the thugs in front of him yelled, pointing at the redhead "Youko Kurama!"

He mentally winced, before taking a leaf from his past life's book (no pun intended) and acting innocent. He cocked his head to one side, saying, "Youko Kurama? Who's he?"

Myojin looked suspiciously at his student. He was usually smarter than this. The demons were scratching their heads as well. "Uh… You are…?" one of the more stupid ones said.

Kurama sighed. Ogres. Had to be. Only they would be thrown off by _that _simple tactic. Just great…

"I think we got the wrong guy." The blonde one said. "This one doesn't have a tail."

The only demon that hadn't spoken yet whacked him upside the head. "Noroi, you idiot. He's in his human form! Gods, I don't know why I even teamed up with you."

"Yes, Ikasu, sir." Noroi and the first that had spoken chanted dutifully.

"That's why. Obedience." Ikasu muttered. The two demons behind them laughed.

Myojin chose this moment to interrupt. "What did they mean by 'tail', Minamino?" he asked, glaring at the fox. He only looked innocent in response.

Myojin continued watching him suspiciously. He'd heard all too often from his father stories about how Kenshin-san would act innocently. Ikasu chose that moment to attack. Myojin whipped around, looking for a stick or something to defend himself with. Anything that would help him fight off the unnaturally strong thugs behind him.

Worriedly, he glanced over at his student to make sure he was able to get away. To his surprise, Minamino wasn't trying to escape. Oh no he was actually fighting _back_! Watching him, Myojin was shocked that Minamino looked completely at home in a fight for his life. Where in the world had the child earned such experience? This couldn't be just from being the reincarnation of Himura-san.

This was all forcibly shoved from his mind as he saw a rusty fire escape dead ahead of him in the alley way the first group of thugs had come out of. Myojin used the speed that he had acquired over the years, dashing past the three people and running towards it. Leaping up he grabbed a bar from the railing and pulled. Luckily for Myojin, it was so rusty it snapped immediately. A little shorter than he would have liked, but since he was being attacked, it hardly mattered.

Quickly, he dived back into the fray. Before he could try and attack, however, the blonde swung his fist down at his head. Myojin quickly blocked the fist with the blade catch, holding the hand away from his skull with the back of his wrists. Myojin swung his hands apart and ducked away from the burly man, pivoting and slamming the railing into the man's side.

It snapped in half.

Myojin stared down at it, shocked. Glancing up, he was just in time to see the leader of the gang swing a small club over his head to kill him. Myojin braced himself, expecting the club to slam into his head any second. Instead, he watched, amazed as the demon was sliced in half. Minamino stood behind him, glaring down at the pieces with amber eyes. In his left hand was clutched a wooden bokken, and in his right was a… large piece of grass…?

"Minamino? What the f--?"

"No time now," his student cut him off, tossing the bokken to him. "Use that, and do try to stay alive, Yahiko."

This did not help Myojin's confusion at _all._ "Minamino?!" Luckily for Myojin, the red head didn't even give him a chance to use the wooden sword. He turned around, slicing through the blonde's arm, who was attempting to sneak up behind him.

Myojin put the questions from his mind for now, vowing to ask his student what the _hell_ was going on when both of them were safe. Spinning around, he managed to knock out a black-haired thug that was (very noisily) attempting to sneak up behind him.

Circling slowly, warily, he saw that the other four demons had been swiftly killed by the teen. Gazing around in confusion, Myojin's eyes eventually traveled back to the red headed figure, who was breathing deeply, head down, apparently trying to gain control of himself. For the first time since he had begun to spend time with Minamino, Myojin was slightly afraid.

"Oi! Kurama! What's up?" a black haired, brown eyed street punk came out of nowhere and whacked Kurama over the back of the head, perhaps a little too hard.

Myojin was surprised with the apparent ease that Minamino attempted to slam the hilt of the green sword into Yusuke's gut. The street fighter just as smoothly dodged it, as the redhead turned, green-eyed again, to face Yusuke.

"Watch it, Kurama, you can do some major damage with those things now... Not that you couldn't already, but... what?" Yusuke nervously finished, as he realized that Kurama wasn't joking. In fact, he was glaring. Not a good thing for one Urameshi Yusuke.

"Yusuke, this is my teacher, Myojin sensei." Kurama said, watching with slight satisfaction as Yusuke's eyes grew huge as he recognized his mistake.

**"**Oops?" he half-asked, half-pleaded. Then the normal Yusuke showed through. "If you didn't want him knowing, then why did you use a _grass _blade?!"

Kurama gestured to the bodies around him that were beginning to dissolve in the sun. "We were attacked." he said, simply.

Defeated, Yusuke merely said, "oh. Well, that all works out, because Ko--" he cut off as Kurama's eyes narrowed again. "Er..."

"He sent you to tell me that we were walking into someone's territory?"

"Yeah, basically…"

Myojin, meanwhile, was getting rather annoyed. "Excuse me," he said as calmly as he could.

The two teens ignored him.

"Please don't tell me we have another assignment, do we?"

"Well, not anymore…" Yusuke shrugged, still surveying the damage around them. Only wet spots were left of the dead ogres, though the one that was unconscious remained.

"Convenient. Has he—?" But Kurama's question had been cut off by the bokken he had grown connecting with his head. "ORO!"

"Thank you…" Myojin said, a small vein pulsing on his forehead. "Now, what the _hell _is going on?!"


	8. Questions Answered, Questions Gained

Sekamu: alright, shorter chapter than we're used to, but it is an update! After losing interest in this story, I recently picked it up again, and thought, "you know, we had a plot all worked out for this, it would be a shame to lose it."

So here we are, the next chapter of Second Chance!!

"_Convenient. Has he—?" But Kurama's question had been cut off by the bokken he had grown connecting with his head. "ORO!" _

"_Thank you…" Myojin said, a small vein pulsing on his forehead. "Now, what the _hell_ is going on?!" _

"Er…"

"Well…" the two Spirit Detectives oh-so-eloquently countered.

"Explanation. NOW."

"Well, he's your teacher, Kurama. I'll leave you two to talk…"

"No, you will not." Kurama contradicted. Just the power in his voice was enough to turn Yusuke around and bring him back. Sighing, the redhead turned back to his teacher and said in a defeated voice, "What do you want to know?"

"How do you know a street punk like Urameshi Yusuke?"

Kurama almost fell over, but Yusuke burst out laughing. "My reputation precedes me!"

"We've been friends for a while," Kurama explained blithely. "Anything else?"

"I thought your name was Minamino…?"

The two looked at each other again.

"Kurama's a nickname."

"What about the tail?"

Again, Yusuke started laughing. "Tail?! Only Youko's got…" he trailed off as Kurama glared at him again.

"Perhaps we should take this discussion somewhere else…?" Kurama suggested.

Myojin nodded, agreeing as long as he got his answers.

"Alright, so what kind of tail are we talking here?" The three were in Kurama's house, his mother blessedly absent

"I suppose fluffy," Kurama said absently, causing Yusuke to snort slightly.

"And I was hoping you meant story…" Myojin sighed.



"Well…" Yusuke said unhelpfully. "There's that, too…"

"Yusuke, as long as you continue to make this situation worse, I shall continue to envisage my death plant feasting on your entrails. Are we understood?"

Yusuke gulped. "Yeah, gotcha Kurama."

Myojin was surprised at the venom in Minamino's voice and his casual use of death. He was shaken from his thoughts by Yusuke commenting, "You know, you're death glare is even scarier than it usually is. Especially with the freaky-amber-eye-thing you've got going. I mean, Youko much?"

Kurama's glare intensified again (Myojin noticed that his eyes were indeed amber), and Yusuke clapped a hand over his mouth and darted out the door.

Or would have, but a single potted plant placed beside the bedroom door discouraged such an exit by rustling warningly.

Yusuke backed down. Myojin stared, looking between the plant and a slightly smug looking Kurama. "Thank you for deciding to stay with us, Yusuke…" The punk nodded and sat back down.

"Wha--?"

"I'm not human," Kurama said bluntly, cutting Myojin's half-formed, stunned question off.

Nod. Nod.

"I can control plants."

Nod. Nod.

"And I was a thief in a former life."

Nod. No-- "Wait, what? You can't mean Himu--"

Kurama blinked, and held up his hands to forestall any protests. "No, not at all. I meant Youko Kurama. He's the one that I remembered first, the one I've always remembered."

"And how many times have you been reincarnated?" Yusuke asked exasperatedly.

"Not as many times as I've been incarcerated," he shot back.

"Huh?"



"Two that I know of… One and a half. Depends on how you count Youko…" he said, ignoring his previous comment.

"Wait," Myojin said thoughtfully, the whole exchange having been missed. "How old was Youko?"

"Er…" Kurama paused, dumbfounded. "Over a thousand?"

"Himura-san died only 250 years ago. How can a demon and a human, having lived at the same time, be living in the same body now?"

Kurama blinked. "Why didn't I realize this?" he sighed, before shrugging, explaining. "I don't really know. But there's no way they haven't, is there?"

"What exactly happened?"

"He—I(stupid pronouns) _I_ was almost killed by a bounty hunter, and fled to the human world instead, possessing a human in embryo. I grew up, regaining my strength and powers, and here I am." Kurama finished, shrugging again. "If I had to guess, I would say that the soul of the child was Kenshin-san's."

Myojin nodded. "Makes sen—" He was cut off by a shrill ringing. Yusuke sniggered as the teacher turned red and fished into his pocket for his cell phone. Glancing at the caller ID, he sighed and flipped it open. "You have really bad timing, Kumiko…" He visibly winced and pulled the phone away from his ear.

"**What am I supposed to do? I come back, and there's no note, no sign as to where you've gone, you and your student have both disappeared! WHERE ARE YOU?!" **

Kurama felt extremely sorry for Myojin at that point, but he felt even sorrier for him when he got home, especially since Myojin simply hung up. "I hope you know how to handle her," he commented, smiling slightly.

"With a chair and whip," Myojin muttered. "As I'm sure you can tell, I need to go…"

Yusuke snickered again, and Kurama shot him a look. "I'm sure Yusuke can sympathize. After all, _Keiko _runs him ragged, and they're not even brother and sister." He beamed into Yusuke's glare, and then stood. "I'll walk you to the door."

"Don't think you're getting away that easily!" Yusuke said, bouncing to his feet and following the fox and teacher.

Right outside Kurama's door, Myojin turned back, as if forgetting something. "That's right! The sakabatou! May I please see it?"

Kurama nodded. "Come back inside for one moment, and I'll run up and get it."

Yusuke noticed that he seemed slightly shaken when he came back downstairs, sword in hand. Ignoring the quizzical glance the detective gave him, he held the sword out for Myojin's inspection.

His teacher held it reverently, drawing it about an inch out of the sheath. He whistled softly. "It's in fabulous condition. How did you find it?"

"A friend of mine keeps a temple several miles from here. I found it there."

"It's in excellent condition. I'm surprised, in fact. The hilt should probably be replaced, and doing that could give a chance to prove that this is indeed the Sakabatou Shinuchi forged by Shakku Arai."

Yusuke looked confused. "We would know that… how?"

"Well, most sword smiths sign their works. On Sakabatou Shinuchi, Kenshin-san's old sword, there is a poem. We could verify in that way."

Myojin looked in surprised at Kurama before shaking his head. "Yes, that's it exactly. This will definitely take some getting used to, Minamino-kun."

Kurama bowed to him as Myojin passed the sword back. "Thank you. Good luck with Myojin-dono."

The last thing Myojin heard as his student shut the door behind him was Urameshi saying, "-Dono? Seriously, _-dono?!" _

Kurama ignored Yusuke in favor of watching Myojin walk off down the street. "Yusuke, I have homework to do before tomorrow. Perhaps you should get going as well?"

Yusuke sighed. "Alright, but… you don't have to handle everything on your own, you know." He waved over his shoulder as he walked out the door. "See you next Saturday at the hag's temple."

Thoughtfully, Kurama walked back up the stairs and sat at his desk, staring at the chair Myojin had formerly occupied.

There was a deep slash in the chair, just the width of the sword he now held in his hand.

Carefully, he replaced the sword on the wall and retrieved a needle and thread to stitch together the seat of his desk chair.

Kurama woke suddenly, and in a position very different than the one he went to sleep in. He had been under the covers, in the bed, with the sword safely on the wall. Now he was 

sitting up, sword resting on his shoulder, and leaning against the wall. The position was eerily familiar, considering he had slept in it for decades in a former life.

He shook his head, clearing those thoughts from his head. His "Kenshin-side" as he had mentally dubbed it (though if any of the team found out he even _had _a "Kenshin side", he'd probably never live it down) felt comfortable in the position. His preincarnation had a point, it was easier to defend from this position…

Kurama sighed. How much of his personality would turn into his past life? He drew his sword slightly, standing and moving to hang it on the pegs again. A flash of white passed across the blade—a flash that was in no way from the light of the moon hanging outside his window.

The fox turned around, looking for what could have cast the reflection. No one else was in the room with him.

_It has to be something wrong with the sword. Enishi couldn't have found me this fast… could he? _Kurama forcefully shoved the doubt out of his mind. _No. He couldn't have. I'll go back to the grave tomorrow, and find out more from there. _

Decision made, Kurama sat against the wall again, sword propped against his shoulder. No use in taking chances, after all.


End file.
